


Dreams

by Bespectacled_Geek



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character appears to die but is not actually dead, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Healing, Hopeful Ending, Lightsaber Battles, Post-TLJ, The Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22518100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bespectacled_Geek/pseuds/Bespectacled_Geek
Summary: "People keep telling me they know me," she spoke, at last, her icy voice piercing the silence of the clearing. Kylo froze, his hand above her cheek. She turned her sharp gaze up at him. "No one does."---Kylo Ren meets a different side of Rey on a desolate snowy planet months after the Battle of Crait.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here! This is my first Reylo fic; I've been working on it off and on for the last three months and I'm very proud of it. Thank you so much to the wonderful people at The Writing Den for sprinting with me and giving me encouragement, and particularly my beta DarkMage13 for helping me work out some things. You're the best!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy!

The air hung thick with anticipation as the Force shifted around Kylo Ren. It swelled inside him, that intimate tug toward her. The constant murmur of the life support system fizzled into silence; the air turned cold. The hazy outlines of trees, their empty branches capped with snow, blurred into focus. Snowflakes swirled on the chilly air; Kylo lifted a hand to touch one. It melted against his black glove, the water running down the planes of his hand in slow rivulets.

"How interesting," he marveled, shaking the water from his glove.

A tree branch cracked on the edge of the clearing. Kylo whirled to face the intruder, reaching toward his belt for his saber.

Rey appeared at the edge of the clearing, concealed in the shadows cast by the ring of trees. He relaxed, lowering his guard.

"The bond is growing stronger," she said, eyeing him warily.

Kylo took a step toward her, his boots crunching the snow beneath his feet. "I've missed you."

She did not answer.

Another step. Still, she remained silent.

"I meant what I said."

One more.

"You are not alone."

He joined her in the shadows. She blinked up at him, unmoving, her eyes like starlight in the darkness. Tentatively, he reached a hand to her face, brushing it against the wispy fabric of her hood.

"People keep telling me they know me," she spoke, at last, her icy voice piercing the silence of the clearing. Kylo froze, his hand above her cheek. She turned her sharp gaze up at him. "No one does."

A single tear rolled down her cheek. Cupping her face reverently, Kylo wiped it away. Rey closed her eyes, leaning into his touch.

“But I do,” he gulped.

She seized his wrist, pushing his hand away.

"I don't think you do."

Her eyes flashed gold.

He recoiled as if she’d burned him.

The Force stirred. Darkness rose within her, rage and hatred bubbling over like a boiling pot.

"This isn't you," he stumbled backward, tripping on a fallen log.

Rey whipped her new lightsaber from her belt, the chrome hilt glinting in the starlight.

"I can assure you," she ignited the blade, "it is."

The crackling dual blades bathed her face in crimson light. She released the second blade. Swinging in an arc, it fell into place with a click. Rey advanced, twirling the dual sabers like the staff she had used so long ago on Starkiller.

Ben pulled his blade from his belt with the Force, igniting the blade just in time to avoid a fatal blow to the head. He scrambled to his feet.

Rey pulled back, stalking the ring of trees.

"Why are you doing this?"

"You know why," she circled him, her black cloak billowing in the freezing wind. "You told me. We have to let the past die."

She charged at him again, swinging the saber staff back and forth in a furious onslaught.

Kylo parried.

Rey slashed upward.

Their lightsabers clashed, red sparks flying and melting the swirling snowflakes.

Kylo pushed back.

Rey pushed harder.

She feinted, pulling her saber staff away before kicking him in the chest.

He sailed through the clearing, crashing against one of the trees on the edge of the clearing.

His ears rang. Dazed, he dragged himself up.

A stream of fresh blood trickled down from his forehead.

Rey advanced.

"Rey, I'm sorry,” he choked, the tang of iron on his tongue.

Rey snarled, flipping her saber staff with one hand.

She feinted low, before striking high.

He sidestepped out of her way.

“Don’t be,” she growled, slicing through the tree. It splintered, cracking right down the middle. Kylo leaped out of the way as one side smashed to the ground between them, loose powder and smoke filling the air.

Rey flicked her blade, cleaving the fallen tree in half. With a wave of her hand, she hurled him back against the next tree. The Force of the impact knocked the snow from the branches.

He shook it from his hair.

Rey lunged.

Kylo intercepted her blow.

"You were right,” Kylo shouted. Their entangled blades crackled dangerously close to his face. "I should have left with you." The knot on the tree dug into his shoulders.

Rey tightened her grip on her blades. She sank low, grazing the side of his leg with her saber.

Searing pain shot through his thigh. He gritted his teeth.

Rey reached out with the Force. It coiled around his throat, crushing his windpipe.

His vision blurred.

Kylo clawed at his throat with his free hand, blindly swinging his lightsaber with the other.

Rey blocked it easily, knocking the lightsaber from his hand.

It soared through the air and landed in the snow on the other side of the clearing with a thunk.

Rey released him.

Gasping, Kylo fell to his knees. His injured leg throbbed.

Rey clicked her saber off.

Darkness swirled around her, her eyes glowing gold. It crashed over Kylo, drowning him in pain and misery.

"Rey, please,” he wheezed, spotting the alabaster snow with ruby red blood.

Rey knelt in front of him, examining his face with a curious expression.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” Beaming, she cupped his cheek. “You have shown me the future.”

Tears welled in his eyes. Every trace of the once blazing light inside her had vanished.

She stood, offering him her hand. “Join me. We can rule the galaxy together.”

He shook his head.

“This isn’t who you’re supposed to be.”

A lone teardrop rolled down his face, mixing with blood as it traced the lines of his scar.

She pulled her hand away.

"Is that your answer, then?"

He nodded.

Her lightsaber blazed to life, casting the snow around them in a crimson glow.

“I love you,” he whispered, a fervent prayer of devotion to his unfeeling goddess.

“Too little, too late.”

Shifting her stance, she raised her saber staff to strike.

For the first time in years, he stretched out toward the ever-present tendril of light in the back of his mind. He closed his eyes and tugged; it bathed him in complete serenity.

Time seemed to slow down. Rey swung her blade around, kicking up a cloud of snow. The heat of the blade burned, crackling with energy as it drifted closer.

He opened his eyes.

“Goodbye,” he murmured.

With a sickening crunch, Rey pierced his chest.

The world went black.

* * *

Ben jolted upright. Panting, he blinked and calmed his racing heart. Sweat and sticky blood plastered the hair to his forehead. He reached a tentative hand to his chest, brushing his fingers against the bare skin to search for any new damage--no blood there. The scar on his face, her scar, throbbed with pain. He shuddered, clenching his hands tight around his black silk sheets as he tried to rid himself of the salt of tears and iron tang of blood on his tongue. A stream of sweat ran down his back in between his shoulder blades. The artificial air chilled him.

The clock next to his bed read 0200 hours.

He tossed his wet sheets aside and swung his legs over the bed to limp to his closet. With every step, the cauterized wound on his thigh burned, and the room swam. The fresher stood unused. Ben downed two glasses of water before he collapsed onto the floor by the sink. Peeling back his sweat-soaked pants revealed a nasty red gash on the side of his thigh. It stung in the cold air. He grabbed the med-kit he kept under his sink. Wincing, he slathered the wound in slimy bacta gel and wrapped it in a bandage. After wiping the blood from the cut on his forehead with a cloth, he applied a hasty spritz of bacta spray. He dressed with mechanical efficiency, tugging on his boots as he hopped toward the door on his good leg. His mask sat untouched in the display in the alcove next to the door. The empty eye sockets glared at him.

“You are nothing without me,” they said.

He pushed the button to unlock the door. It swished open.

He barrelled into the dim hallway, almost colliding with a black RA-7 protocol droid.

“What day is it?” He shook the droid by the shoulders.

“It is 0210 hours on the 3rd day of the month,” the droid responded, its automated voice pitching. “Supreme Leader, are you well? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’ve never felt better,” Ben snapped. “Carry on.”

“Yes, sir,” the droid nodded in deference before it puttered down the hallway.

Sighing, Ben ran a hand through his damp hair. He looked back and forth down the empty hallway. The dim hallway lights flickered in the quiet.

He crept back into his suite, heading straight for the closet. Grabbing a large bag, he shoved an extra set of clothes inside.

As he walked back through his rooms, he called his lightsaber to his hand, hanging it to his belt. The mask glared at him again, the silver kintsugi gleaming in the harsh light. Ben stared back. Igniting his saber, he smashed it to pieces in a few quick strokes. The ruins of his mask smoldered, tendrils of curling black smoke rising from the ashes.

Ben flicked the lights off and waited at the door. The Force wrinkled as a lone trooper passed on his rounds. Before pushing the button, Ben waited until the footsteps passed into the next corridor. The door slid open into the empty hallway, half-power lights flickering. Shouldering his bag, he headed down the left side, sticking to the shadows as much as possible.

Loud footsteps from around the corner signaled a small party’s approach. Ben hobbled as fast as he could into a side corridor, slinking into the shadows. The slimy signature of General Hux and two underlings came into focus. Ben cursed under his breath. Ducking into a nearby supply closet with great difficulty, he swung the door shut just as Hux and his junior officers altered their course. Their boots clicked in unison on the metal floor.

Ben peeked out of the grate in the supply closet door. Hux, uniform perfectly pressed even at 0200 in the morning and flanked by two aides, marched down the hallway. One of the lackeys glued his eyes to his datapad, typing frantically as the general spoke.

“The Supreme Leader has been acting erratic of late,” Hux declared as he approached Ben’s hiding place. It made Ben’s skin crawl. “I am sure it has something to do with the resistance rat who ‘killed’ Supreme Leader Snoke." They halted in front of the supply closet. "He is a liability. If the Order is to stand, there must be a change in leadership."

The assistant continued to type.

Fresh blood from the cut on his forehead rolled down Ben’s face, slinking and sliding through the grooves of his scar until it beaded at the end of his nose.

“Yes, but the Supreme Leader is powerful in the force,” Hux’s other sycophant interjected. “I’m not sure it is feasible—“

The drop of blood on his nose plummeted to the closet floor, landing with an almost inaudible plink.

“What was that?” Hux interrupted, scanning the corridor.

Frozen to the spot, Ben held his breath.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the man with the datapad apologized. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Hux looked directly at the closet. Another drop of blood trickled down Ben’s nose and dangled precariously at the end.

“I was sure I heard something . . .” Hux glared at the empty hallway one more time before grabbing his underlings by the shoulder.

“Anyway, not to worry,” Hux winked. “I have a plan. There is a rare species of lizard . . .” He steered the man down the corridor. Hux’s voice and the typing of his assistant grew quieter as the party passed beyond Ben’s reach, their footsteps receding into the quiet hum of the ship's life support systems. Ben exhaled, wiped the blood from his nose, and opened the closet door to let in a sliver of light. He peered out of the shadows into the corridor. Still empty. He adjusted his bag and carried on, shuffling down the hall. Searing pain shot through his leg with every step.

The labyrinthine corridors of the Finalizer stretched on forever, flickering on and off in the artificial night. Sweat and blood dribbled down his forehead. Wiping the blood from his face, Ben stalled at a three-way fork, where the main hallway branched out into three smaller corridors. Footsteps pounded down the hall in front of him. He reached out with the Force, tendrils of light and dark mingling as they raced down the hallway. A single stormtrooper patrolled the hall, blaster at the ready.

Ben rolled the tension from his shoulders. He straightened, tapping his clammy hand against his injured leg.

The stormtrooper marched through the hallway. He halted in front of Ben, clicking his heels together.

“Supreme Leader,” he saluted. “Can I help you, sir?”

Ben focused on the cold black visor of the soldier’s helmet.

“You will take me to my ship.”

“I will take you to your ship,” the stormtrooper repeated in a robotic voice. He turned on his heels to advance down the left hallway. Ben followed, his cape billowing in the stale air. His bag dragged heavy on his sore shoulders with the weight of every step.

The stormtrooper lead him to the central lift. The doors slid open with a whoosh; he stepped inside. The stormtrooper pressed a button and returned to attention as the lift began its smooth descent. While floors passed by on the elevator's small read-out, Ben tightened his grip on the black canvas strap on his shoulder. Coming to a slow stop, the lift doors slid open onto one of the smaller hangars.

The polished black alloy that covered his Silencer glinted in the harsh light of the hangar. Ben breathed a sigh of relief. He turned to the stormtrooper.

“You will forget you ever saw me.” He waved his hand over the expressionless helmet.“You will erase the security footage and return to your post.” Ben dismissed him with a nod.

“I will forget I ever saw you,” the stormtrooper replied.

Ben stepped outside the lift.

“I will erase the security footage and return to my post.” The stormtrooper saluted as the elevator doors swished shut.

The ever-present hum of computers and life support systems whirred underneath the eerie silence that blanketed the docking bay. Ben scanned the scores of docked TIE fighters, searching for anomalies. No sign of life forms. The red lights on the security cameras blinked, watching his every move.

Ben trekked through the deserted hangar toward his Silencer, his footsteps echoing on the metal floor. Adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he pressed the button to open the airlock. It hissed, steam releasing from the valves as it slid open. A ramp extended from the bottom of the airlock, landing on the polished floor with a clank. Ben staggered in, closing the door behind him. The ramp receded back into the floor as the airlock doors slammed shut. He keyed his personal access code onto the lock next to the hatch and climbed inside the ship when the door whooshed open. Stooping, he stowed his bag in one of the large pull-out drawers, and then checked the onboard storage for emergency rations. He flipped through the bread and protein packs, pausing to examine one of the plastic pressed packets of blue bread powder. The unappetizing dust fluttered when he shook it. He grabbed the med-kit, stuffed the rations back inside, and shoved the cupboard closed.

Climbing into the cockpit, he switched the power on. The Silencer hummed to life, a muted whir as the console buttons blinked into existence a few at a time. Squeezing between the pilot’s chair and the walls of the cockpit, he wriggled until he could see the underside of the instrument panel. He ran his hands along the smooth metal cover, searching for cracks. Finding one, he yanked the lid off and tossed it into the cockpit. It clanged on the floor. He squirmed closer, probing the massive tangle of wires. In the back corner, cloaked by darkness, a small red light flashed. Ben plucked the small device from its nest of cables. He scooted out, his wounded leg protesting, and held the tracker up to the light by the antenna. He stuck the tracker on the instrument panel while he reattached the discarded cover. It slid back into place. He rose with great care, putting all his weight on his good leg. He dusted off his hands and grabbed the tracking device from the instrument panel. Without hesitation, he dropped it to the floor. It clattered to the ground, bouncing a few times before it stopped, the light still blinking. He pressed down slowly with his boot, crushing the homing beacon with a sickening crunch. When he pulled his boot away, it sparked and fizzled out. Ben smirked.

Groaning, he settled into the pilot’s chair and stuffed the med-pack underneath. Toggling the switch above him, he purged the excess oxygen from the payload. The vents spluttered as they sucked the oxygen out of the payload and into the life support system tanks. With the oxygen safely vented, he double-checked the Silencer’s payload and fuel intake systems. He pushed a series of buttons and flipped the switches above him, verifying the operational status of the communications system and the hyperdrive. Ben breathed a sigh of relief. He toggled one last switch. The Silencer rose noiselessly as Ben eased it out of the hangar into the cover of space. He maneuvered the spacecraft with careful precision, holding his breath while he weaved between the floating Star Destroyers until he cleared the First Order fleet. Ben centered himself and flipped the switch to enable the hyperdrive. As he pulled the hyperdrive lever down, the stars around him winked out of existence, blurring into the familiar lines of hyperspace.

Out in deep hyperspace, far from the First Order fleet, peace washed over him, a calm sense of purpose of the kind he’d never felt before.

Ben laughed. “So that’s what that feels like.”

Leaving the ship on autopilot, Ben dragged the med-kit out from behind the chair. He wiped his forehead clean of blood with a sterile cloth and reached for the unopened jar of bacta gel.

“I wonder,” he mused aloud, pulling his hand away.

He placed it over the deep abrasion and closed his eyes, letting the force wash over him. The wound tingled as he directed the Force. His hand shook as his life force seeped into the wound; slowly but surely, the skin around the cut morphed and expanded, stitching itself back into place until all traces of the injury vanished.

He smiled. “That’s new.”

Wiping his hands with a towel, he stowed the med-kit back under his seat

The Force shifted.

Ben froze, picking up on the almost imperceptible changes.

It was her.

Zeroing in on her force signature, he redirected the hyperdrive navigation. He leaned back in his chair. Wherever Rey was, he would save her from herself.

Maybe that would be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> This is a one-shot for now, but I may continue it someday if inspiration strikes me. I do have another fic in the works, but I don't want to say too much about it until I really get cracking on the first draft.
> 
> Please leave me a comment if you feel so inclined, and feel free to come pester me with questions on my [Tumblr.](https://criesinreylo.tumblr.com/)


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